Untitled
by JessieJay13
Summary: Can Ginny save Draco from a world that he doesn't really fit in to? Or even from himself? --Just seeing where it's going really. Any name suggestions will be considered.
1. Chapter 1

Draco gulped as he slid carefully along the corridor, skirting the patches of moonlight streaming in through the high windows. The draft cooled the sweat on his brow as he pushed open the great oak doors. They groaned reluctantly on their hinges, voicing Draco's own protests and making him flinch at the grating sound. Swallowing hard again, he set off across the dark grounds. The looming treetops of the forbidden forest seemed to reach out to him, pulling him in no matter how hard he struggled to free himself. He knew what waited for him in the depths of those trees, he was the one who had shown them the spot for it, and how to get in. Now, as he fought down the urge to run for it, he was regretting it.

Nonetheless, willing his dinner to stay in his churning stomach, he forced his trembling legs to carry him through the undergrowth. The wan light from the sliver of a moon was blotted out almost instantly as he stepped beneath the canopy of tightly interwoven leaves and branches. The darkness seemed to swallow him whole, pressing in on him until he felt he couldn't breathe. He walked faster, but this only made him feel worse, considering what he was heading toward. He soon found himself in a large clearing. He would have thought it was beautiful, with the moonlight reflecting off of the leaves and flowers, just now beginning to part their soft new petals, if only it hadn't been for the clearing's occupants.

If only.

It was filled to the brim with Death Eaters, all masked and standing silently in a circle. Three men stood in the middle of the ring; his father, Severus Snape, and the Dark Lord, Voldemort himself. The Death Eaters surrounding them broke ranks and parted a bit to allow him entrance, mending the gap in the circle behind him as soon as he had stepped past them, pushing him forward slightly. He was trapped. No turning back now. Not that he had any say in the matter to begin with. None of this had been his idea or suggestions, he had just cracked under the pressure and agreed. How stupid of him, he was thinking now. Slowly, he approached the men, head down as his father had taught him was the proper respect for a "man" of Voldemort's stature.

"Hello, again, Draco," said the high cold hiss.

"My Lord," Draco replied, bowing slightly. He hoped desperately that none of the ever-vigilant Death Eaters noticed him shaking slightly.

"Are you ready to finally receive my mark, young Draco?" Voldemort asked expectantly. The boy tried to swallow the lump in his throat before he answered, but it wouldn't go away, lending a small quaver to his voice, as hard as he tried to suppress it.

"Yes, my Lord," he said, hardly above a whisper. It rebounded around the clearing, making him jump at how loud the comment had seemed in the oppressive silence.

"Good." The snake-man held out a hand, so white that it shone brighter than the moonlight, and long and thin, almost frail looking. "Your arm, Draco."

Shaking harder now, Draco slowly lifted his left arm to his master's waiting hand, allowing it to be turned over. He flinched at the iciness of his touch, as cold as if he had no warmth in his body at all. He closed his eyes tightly as Voldemort touched his wandtip to Draco's forearm. Fiery pain shot up his arm, and he bit his lip hard to stop from crying out. Voldemort began to drag the tip across his kin, tracing the outline of the Dark Mark on his arm and leaving a sooty black outline behind it. The pain mounted as the mark got more detailed. Draco was breathing hard, his heart speeding up, his whole body shaking.

He screwed up his face with the effort of staying still as Voldemort lifted his wand away from his abused skin, but the pain wasn't gone yet. The wand plunged back down into the hollow center of the brand. He yelled as the blackness spidered out to fill the outline. His flesh was burning, sizzling away, excruciating. He could feel darkness gathering at the edges of his vision, it was almost unbearable, his knees were about to give it.

Then it was gone.

The pain receded, leaving his knees just as weak, maybe more so. He was winded, feeling dizzy, and a bit nauseous. He blinked bemusedly as his father's beaming face swam before his eyes. Snape clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him clean off his feet.

"That'll go away in a little while, Draco. You'll feel better after a few minutes, son," Lucius said, an undeniable hint of pride to his voice. It was the most he had ever heard there before, the happiest he had sounded addressing his son in a long time. Draco nodded, but he knew he wouldn't. He would never feel better. This guilt, this dread, would linger for the rest of his life. He knew it.

"You are now officially one of my loyal followers. I believe you are capable of joining us on our next mission. You would be involved anyway, but I think you deserve to know ahead of time," Voldemort said, looking at Draco almost excitedly, a sort of light flickering behind the usually dead red eyes. "Tomorrow, Hogwarts will fall at my hands! We will sneak in tomorrow evening and storm the place. We will not reveal your role in this until then. Just act normal and sneak over to our side when the fight begins."

Draco was in shock. Hogwarts will fall? Reveal his role? _Fight?_ How had be not thought of that when he let them in? Fighting against his better judgment, he nodded. Voldemort smiled, a thin-lipped smirk of sorts, and snapped. All of the Death Eaters _popped_ away, his father and Snape among them, but he was too dazed to try and figure out how they had done it on the grounds. It was late, the moon was beginning to sink below the tree-tips, stealing away what little light it provided, and he had to get back inside before the teachers did their second rounds.

Just once, he looked down at his arm. There it was. The Dark Mark. Burned, black and ugly, into his skin. It leered up at him, mocking him. He felt the bile rising in his throat again, but choked it back down. He turned and ran through the trees, not watching where he was going. He tripped and fell once on a root, but got up and kept going, paying no heed to the blood on his palms. He continued across the grounds, not stopping until the great oak front doors closed behind him.

He leaned against them, as he caught his breath. It caught in his throat. As it settled down again, he tried to force his heart to slow as well, but it would have none of it. It was pounding against his ribcage so fiercely that it kept him gasping. It wasn't the running that caused his heart so much panic, it was the whole situation. He was officially a Death Eater, He had just become a part of something so horrible, so vicious, and so against his own personal standards that he felt sick with shame at the thought.

But, he thought, I have to keep my cool. If I turn around now, I'll surely be killed, by one side or another. If I just keep my head down, I may come up with it still intact.

Giving a shaky sigh, he began the trek through the dungeons all the way down toward the Slytherin dormitories. He passed the door to Snape's office. Never before had it looked so foreboding.


	2. Chapter 2

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Draco groaned inwardly, scowling outwardly. Harry Potter and his gang were the last thing he needed to deal with today, along with all the other things on his plate. "Am I not allowed to use the library as well?" he asked, lowering his book a bit to see the Golden Trio plus the Weaslette standing over him. He fidgeted absently with his left sleeve, tugging it down a bit to make completely sure it covered everything. He winced the tiniest of bits as the rough fabric rubbed against the tender raw skin of his new mark. He thought he saw Ginny frown a bit at him in suspicion, and he glared heavily at her. It took her a moment, but she eventually gave up staring at him to follow her friends off to the other side of the library.

"What do you think's the matter with Malfoy?" she asked as she plopped down at their table.

"You mean other than his fat head, big mouth, and over-sized ego?" Ron said, making Harry snigger. Ginny rolled her eyes at them while she pulled all of her homework and supplies out of her bag.

"Yes, other than that. He seemed really jumpy all of the sudden, not nearly as calm as usual. And, he's wearing a long sleeved shirt, indoors, in the middle of April. And, he's alone. No Crabbe, Goyle, or Pansy in sight to tell him how great he is. That's just not normal. Well, for him, at least," she pointed out.

"I dunno, gin, but I also really don't care," Harry said, leaning back over his Transfiguration homework. "I highly doubt he wants us to know his personal problems anyway. And he could just be being his usual pissy self."

"If you say so," she replied dubiously, glancing over her shoulder at Draco. He looked preoccupied, staring at his book without actually seeing it. "He looks worried about something," she whispered, more to herself than the others, "almost scared." His brow was creased, he was frowning, and he continued to pick at his sleeve. His hair didn't look as though he had put nearly as much effort into styling it as he usually did, and his usually perfect skin was marred by the bags under his eyes, which were flitting around nervously. "It looks like he hasn't been sleeping much. Something's obviously really bothering him," she mused out loud, leaning over the back of her chair. Harry made a noise of impatience.

"We came here to study, not discuss Malfoy's issues," he said, obviously annoyed.

"He's right, Gin. And you need to finish your Charms work by tomorrow," Hermione added. Sighing, Ginny turned back to her blank parchment and began working, only glancing back occasionally to see if his stance had changed any. It hadn't. She did this sort of thing a lot. Not with Malfoy specifically, but with people in general. She couldn't very well help that she was such a nosy person.

And very observant at that. She wanted to know everyone's problems and fix them for them. She watched people, reading their body language if anything seemed out of ordinary. Then she could go ask them what was up, or just give them general or cryptic advice that would help them out in the end. That was what she considered her job, and she was very good at it.

Hermione called it her sixth sense, and it was going wild around Malfoy today. She usually had to look for signals to interpret, but Malfoy's were jumping out and bothering her, begging to be solved. He was usually so tight and controlled that she couldn't read him at all, but today he seemed to have let his guard down entirely. He was obviously bothered and, enemy or no, Ginny couldn't help feeling sorry for him. But she knew he would never confide in her, or be inclined to take her advice.

Well, she thought, I'd say leave well enough alone, but Draco Malfoy looks anything but well.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner. Evening finally upon them as the ceiling of the Great Hall slowly darkened from the clear blue of afternoon, to the dusty pinkish color of spring sunset, to the dusky purple that would soon be the inky black of night. Not a cloud in the sky, but no stars yet either. Just darkness. It seemed very apprehensive to Draco. He was so jumpy that he nearly cursed Pansy when she tried to hug him from behind without announcing that she would do so. He sat alone near the end of the Slytherin table, barely picking at his food and watching the door nervously.

When nothing happened, no Death Eaters came bursting through it, he began to foster the slimmest of hopes that the attack wasn't coming, that they had been discovered or caught,. He didn't let himself dare to be optimistic, but he allowed himself to admit to that there was even the slightest of possibilities, and that was something. He was just starting to get his appetite back when a blast like a cannon went off, blowing the front doors clean of their hinges. Cursing, Draco jumped to his feet, nearly in a panic. Girls screamed, younger children began to cry, people started running. Pansy latched herself onto his arm, almost hyperventilating.

"Drakie! What's going on? Do something, make it stop, help me!" she shrieked. Draco scowled impatiently at her and shoved her off of him to join the throng flocking out into the entrance hall. Death Eaters were flooding in to form a wall blocking all of the exits, trapping the students in the hall. The teachers rushed in, looking stunned and alarmed.

"Dumbledore!" a cruel cold voice called. Several girls went into hysterics as Voldemort himself swept regally into the hall. "Are you really still alive? How many years must you have seen by now? You were already considered very old when I was here last."

"As you can so plainly see, Tom, I am still very much alive. What, may I ask, are you and your impressive array of followers doing here in my school?" the old man asked serenely. The Dark Lord scowled at the use of his given name, but didn't deem it necessary to respond to.

"What else? I've come to claim Hogwarts as my own."

"How did you get in?" someone yelled from the back. Voldemort seemed to debate answering the question. He glanced Draco's way, grinning slyly. The boy shook his head slightly, his eyes widening slightly in panic as he realized that his master was going to break his promise. The grin spread evilly. Deliberately, he beckoned to one of his nearby followers, and pressed his forefinger to the mark on his arm. Pain shot suddenly through Draco's arm. He clutched it tightly, gasping involuntarily as a shudder of discomfort went through the walls of other Death Eaters. Every eye turned to him, shocked that one among them had let the Death Eaters into the castle. He would have been their first guess, had they been asked, but they had never guessed. Voldemort gestured for him to come, and slowly, very slowly, Draco obeyed.

"Young Draco, here, let us in last night," Voldemort informed the whole silent hall. "Now wasn't that helpful of him?" The boy feel his face heating up in shame, and he began to shake violently as the blank stares of his peers turned hot, burning into him as permanently as the mark on his arm. He hoped he didn't look as terrified and mortified as he knew he did. Once face, though, stood out among the hostility of the rest; Ginny Weasley was looking almost sympathetically at him, her face a mix of confusion and pain, a little conflicted but suddenly understanding.

He kept his eyes on her face to keep from looking at everyone else's, so that he wouldn't need to see the anger and hatred in so many of his once-friends' eyes. He shut his mind as tightly as he possibly could, knowing that not even Voldemort could penetrate his best mental shield. It had served him well through the interviews and tests he was forced to go through to get to now. Voldemort still trusted him, even though everything he had done up to this point was entirely against his will.

Well, sort of.

He did it, whether his mind told him to or not. He had told himself in the beginning that it was what his father did, so it must be the right thing. Then he said that it was just the winning side, so why fight for the losers and die when he could join the Death Eaters and survive? Now he didn't know what to tell himself, what he could possibly tell himself to make his mind justify what he was doing. There was no way, as the glares he was now receiving were complete and utter proof of.

All was silent for a moment. Pansy fainted, but no one seemed to care. There were the soft rustlings of Death Eater cloaks, heavy breathing and sobs of hysteria, and a roaring wave of disapproval and shame that washed over Draco, pounding on him until he wanted to scream, but he didn't dare. Voldemort let the moment grow, drinking in the fear he had caused, an icy hand on his newest minion's shoulder. Finally, he let go of Draco's trembling shoulder to raise his hands above them both.

"You all, as children, shall see a bit of my mercy," he said. "Join me and you shall not be harmed. Stand against me and I will kill you. So, students…what shall it be?" He waited, surveying the terrified mass expectantly.

"Stupefy!"

Voldemort deflected the spell with ease. Harry had thrown himself out of the crowd in a rage. The Dark Lord chuckled softly and Draco took a tiny step back to hide in his considerable shadow.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said softly. "I had almost forgotten you were still here. How long has it been? A full year, maybe more? Well, I hate to disrupt your pathetic, peaceful little life, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to end it tonight." Draco did a doubletalk, horrified. Kill Potter? He knew everyone in this school would die to save Harry, and tonight he was sure they would. He was just now beginning to realize how many lives he may have single-handedly destroyed just by passing the information of how to get into the forest undetected to the Death Eaters. He fought to keep his legs beneath him as Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry. He closed his eyes tight and turned his head as the Dark Lord roared, "_Avada kedavra!_" Almost simultaneously, the whole of the school bellowed back, "PROTEGO!" The combined force of the spells formed a wall, and the green bolt all but exploded in front of it. Harry stood, unharmed and smirking, at a fuming Voldemort. The latter narrowed his red eyes at the boy, then smiled thinly.

"I see you still surround yourself with friends wiling to die for you, Harry. Very clever of you, actually. Cowardly, though," he said. Harry's smirk vanished in an instant to be replaced by a firm scowl. "I'll tell you that I will kill them all to get to you. You will die by the end of the night, Harry Potter. I promise it." Draco shivered at the sincerity of his tone, the iciness in his snake-eyes. Voldemort slowly raised his hand and snapped.

The rest of his fleet rushed forward, spells beginning to fly from all directions. Screams rang out as friends fell, younger students were fleeing up the stairs, everything was chaos. Draco backed away in horror as a young girl, no more than twelve, was hit in the back by what was obviously a killing curse. The stunned look on her face as she fell was enough to bring him to tears. When she hit the ground, he hung his head respectively, then he began to rapid fire, stunning the other Death Eaters when their backs were turned. He smirked with satisfaction as at least a dozen fell to his wand. He had to say that Hogwarts was putting up a good fight. The difference, he knew, between the groups was that when a Death Eater fell, he was most likely stunned, but when a student fell, they were dead before they hit the ground. On his way around the entrance hall, working his way toward the doors, he managed to save a few younger students and stun a few more Death Eaters.

"Draco! What are you doing?!" Lucius yelled as his son, the newest Death Eater, turned on his comrades. Draco rounded on him, wide-eyed and terrified to find himself staring down his father's wand. "How dare you betray the Dark Lord, boy?" he bellowed, his wand trembling with rage. "You're a traitor! He allowed you into his army and you repay him like this? Then you are no son of mine!" Before Draco could even more, Lucius lifted his arm to bring it swinging down, but he didn't get the chance. A bolt of red light hit him square in the back and he fell forward, landing flat on his face with a crack. He looked up frantically for his savior, and came face to face with Ginny Weasley. He tried to smile at her but she scowled at him. She mouthed, 'I'll find you later,' and the hurried away, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the raging battle. Only when a spell shot over his shoulder did he jump and return to the fight. He was screwed now, he knew it. If the Death Eaters won or escaped, his father would tell Voldemort and Draco would be hunted down and killed, he just knew it. So there was really no point in trying to hide his treachery anymore, so he fought openly against the hooded figures. With sudden inspiration, he began tapping the younger students on the head with his wand and whispering to them to run for the dormitories as the Disillusionment charm took affect.

Ginny gasped along with everyone else as Malfoy grasped his arm in pain. They all watched with horror as he obeyed Voldemort's summons. She watched him closer and saw, to her surprise, that he was shaking. He flinched when his master put a hand on his shoulder, but no one else noticed anything. When it was revealed that he had had a hand in the Hogwarts invasion, Malfoy flushed deeply, and Ginny had the notion that he hadn't meant to do it at all. He looked almost ashamed, as hard as he tried to hide it. She saw him look around in dismay, and his eyes finally settled on her. A confused look came over his own face. Voldemort was still talking, but she focused on keeping his eye contact, trying to read his expression further. He looked like a caged animal, desperate for an escape but forced to stay still by a tightening noose around his neck.

Well, this explains what was the matter with him earlier, she thought, He was nervous and his sleeve was covering his Dark Mark. Poor guy, he looks terrified. She knew she shouldn't have been feeling sorry for the guy who let Death Eaters into the school, but she was an empathetic person. Suddenly, Harry threw himself forward, breaking her out of her musings and screaming, "Stupefy!" Ginny tried to pull him back, but it didn't matter. Voldemort deflected the spell easily and spoke to him.

"Harry Potter. I had almost forgotten you still went here. How long has it been? A full year, maybe more? Well, I hate to disrupt your pathetic, peaceful little life, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to end it tonight." Malfoy's expression changed from one of shame to one of horror. Voldemort raised his wand. As soon as he shot his spell, Ginny, and practically everyone else in the hall, yelled, "PROTEGO!" and Voldemort's spell disintegrated. Harry smirked at him, which was a little cocky in her opinion; it was them that saved him, after all. All the same, she steeled herself for another attack. It didn't come.

"I see you still surround yourself with friends willing to die for you, Harry. Very clever, actually. Cowardly, though," Voldemort hissed. Ginny knew he had hit a nerve when Harry's smirk vanished and his whole body tensed. "I'll tell you that I will kill them all to get to you. You will die by the end of the night, Harry Potter. I promise it." Ginny watched in fascination as the emotions played across Malfoy's face: fear, horror, guilt, anger, frustration, hate, all in quick succession. His master snapped, and a spell flew. A torrent of hexes, curses, spells, charms, flashes of light. Immediately, Ginny began firing back, ducking and dodging. She began working her way back toward Malfoy, who seemed to be struggling with himself. Finally, he fired off a spell, but it didn't hit a student. It hit a Death Eater, and he went tumbling down. Having made his moral decision, he was a ferocious dueler, taking down at least a dozen Death Eaters.

Suddenly, she heard his name shouted to the hall. His father emerged from the crowd, his hood pulled back and his mask missing. There was no mistaking the fury in his face, nor the fear in his son's. Lucius was yelling, screaming at Malfoy, but Ginny was too far away to hear what was being said. Abandoning her duel, she sprinted in their direction. Before she even knew what she was doing, the bolt of red light from her wand hit Lucius in the back, and he fell. Malfoy gaped at her. He tried to smile but she frowned at him. 'I'll find you later,' she mouthed, and sped off to help Neville, who was attempting to hold off four Death Eaters at once. Bloody, git, she thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco stood, trembling, in an alcove off of the entrance hall. He leaned his back against the cold stone of the wall and slid down it to rest on the floor, his forehead on his bent knees. The image of that one little girl flashed in his mind again, and a single tear fled down his face. How could I have let this happen? he thought. He could hear the living in the Hall beyond clearing the dead and the Ministry officials rounding up the stunned Death Eaters. No one knew he was there. No one was looking for him.

Except Ginny.

She was the only reason he hadn't run by now, run fast and far away. She had saved his life, and she wanted to talk to him. Any tiny chance of someone on the right side believing that he wanted to be good was a chance worth taking.

Footsteps.

Coming closer.

Draco scrambled to his feet, pulled his wand from the back pocket of his jeans, and braced himself in case it wasn't Ginny coming toward him, someone less…friendly, if she could be called that from the look on her face.

But it was her.

"Put your wand down!" she hissed, sliding into the recess. "Quick! Aparate us away. I don't care where, just not where anyone can find us." She put a hand on his shoulder. It was warm and it calmed him.

"What about the antiaparition wards?" he asked.

"They were damaged in the fight," Ginny explained. "Now go! Hurry up before someone finds us!" Draco put a hand over hers to make sure she stayed with him and turned on the spot. When they opened their eyes, they were in a huge room lined with bookshelves, a large bed in the middle. A writing desk and a fireplace filled one corner, a bureau the other. A long row of french windows leading out to a balcony terrace made up the other wall. A bedroom, probably.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked, stepping away from him a good distance as she eyed the green bed linens with suspicion.

"My room in Malfoy Manor."

"What?!"

"It's okay!" he assured her, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "My father just got arrested--thanks for that, by the way--my mother's in France for a few weeks, and the wards will alert us if anyone else tries to get in so we'll have plenty of time to run for it. This is by far the safest place to be right now." He gestured and Ginny tentatively sat down in an armchair by the bed, turning it to face him. Draco flicked his wand and a fire sprang up in the grate. "Now, what exactly did you want to say to me?"

"Why did you let those Death Eaters in?" she asked at once. Draco sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees. It was a while before he answered.

"I really don't know," he admitted quietly, looking up at her. She was surprised at how tired he looked, so much older than he was. "Maybe to try and places my father. Maybe to try and make something of myself. Maybe just because I didn't know what else to do. Maybe a mixture of the three. I don't know. All I do know is that I wish I hadn't. I wish I didn't go into the forest last night, I wish this mark would just go away. Sometimes…sometimes I wish I was never born." He turned his face away from her, dropping his gaze to the floor again.

"No!" Ginny said. "Don't think that way! I don't care what you've done, that doesn't mean you don't deserve to live. Just because--"

"But I don't!" Draco cried. "I really don't. I've done nothing to help anyone my entire life! All I've done is bully people, a-and cater to my father's every evil whim, and tried to be something I'm just not to please the people around me. I have nothing to offer, and no one would miss me if I wasn't here." He looked so sad, so alone, that Ginny had tears in her eyes.

"Malfoy--"

"Please," he said, flinching. "don't call me Malfoy. Draco, ferret, I really don't care. Just not Malfoy." She nodded, confused at his weary tone.

"Draco…of course people would miss you. I'm sure Pansy would be lost without you," she said, giving her best impression of a chuckle.

"Pansy would move right along to her next boy toy within days. A little crying for show, but she wouldn't really care. And don't even try to bring up my parents. My parents never cared to begin with, so they wouldn't miss me. The only reason they saved me from my last suicide attempt was so as to appear as concerned, loving parents in the public eye."

"Y-you tried to kill yourself?" Ginny whispered, horrified. Draco didn't answer, didn't even look at her, just pulled up his right sleeve to reveal a row of scars, some more healed than others, some fresh, going up and down his arm. "You were a cutter?" she asked, her heart breaking at the shame and pain written clearly on his lowered face.

"Am," he corrected her. "I _am _a cutter." It sounded like it cost him a lot to admit. It was silent for a moment as he pulled his sleeve back down. "I quit for a while. Then I heard I was scheduled to get this and it started back up again," he said, showing her his other arm, where the Dark Mark was burned black and ugly into it. Ginny recoiled and he hastily covered it again, flushing.

"Sorry." Ginny pushed her hair behind her ear. "When did you get the mark?" she asked tentatively, wondering if that was too painful a question.

"Last night. They let me in on their plans immediately," he said in a monotone. Ginny's temper flared again.

"Well, if you knew, then why didn't you tell anyone?" she demanded furiously.

"Have you ever seen a friend die at the hands of Voldemort?" he asked abruptly, turning his sharp, blank blue eyes on her. The pain and surrender in them gave her chills. "Right in front of your face? And not just with a spell. The muggle way. A knife. Voldemort stabbed my friend in the stomach and split it open. As an example, a show, entertainment. And I was the one who put the idea of betrayal in his head to begin with. But I was a better Occlumens. He got caught and I didn't. He was killed and I wasn't. That's why I didn't tell."

Ginny was in shock. She didn't respond for a moment, the image the detached retelling conjured floating against her eyelids like some grotesque watercolor painting. "That's…horrible…" she choked out, her voice strained. The boy chuckled slightly, and nodded the tiniest bit, looking down again. "But at least you want out. You do want out, don't you?"

"Of course I want out!" Draco exploded, jumping to his feet. "I've only been a Death Eater one day and I couldn't handle it! Why would I want to kill muggleborns? I don't see anything wrong with them. I admit that some of them are better than me. Namely Granger. She's better than me at everything, so why would I kill her? Just because she's a muggleborn? No! I don't want Voldemort to win the war! I may not like Potter, but that doesn't mean I want him dead. In fact, I respect him very much, more than I respect myself. All of you! You're all better people than I am and I've always known that. Potter and Granger were always outdoing me or finding yet another way to remind me of what I coward I am!" he yelled.

"Draco!" Ginny yelled back, standing up to push him back down onto the bed gently. "Calm down! You're not a coward. And if you really want to switch sides, we can find a way to make that happen. The others may not believe you, but I do. And Dumbledore will. That's all that matters," she said soothingly, looking him right in the eyes. She saw the anger fading from them as tears and desperation replaced it. Carefully, she sat on the bed beside him. When he showed no signs of discouragement, she put an arm around him. Reluctantly, he leaned on her, allowing her to hug him. "Making bad choices doesn't make you a bad person, Draco. But wanting to fix them makes you good."

I hope so, Ginny, Draco thought desolately, I hope so.

As she sat with Draco in her arms, Ginny felt something she had never felt for that particular boy: sympathy, pity, and maybe a touch of affection. Vulnerability had always been an endearing quality to her. It was strange, being there with him, but like she said, she was always an empath, and Draco seemed to be in desperate need of some help and friendship. She stroked his back as he hugged her tightly. He was trying to bite back tears, she could tell. She didn't say anything, just waited for him to move. Eventually, Draco pulled away, discreetly wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"Would you like something to eat, Ginny?" he asked after casting around for something to say. Her face split into a smile.

"I would love some." Beaming at her, Draco called for his personal house elf, Dwink, to fetch them some cookies and milk ("You're never too old for a classic!") which they went down to eat in a spacious glittering kitchen painted a pastel green. It had a much more welcoming air about it, no doubt thanks to Narcissa's feminine touch. They ate in silence for a few minutes until Ginny spoke up.

"Do you have any ideas on how to approach the rest of the Order?" she asked. He hesitated.

"None whatsoever."

"Fair enough. We'll figure something out together. And I might be able to convince Hermione or someone ahead of time to come over and help. Her hatred of you isn't as blind as Harry and Ron's, and we could use her logic," she said. "You should just lay low here for a while. You're a known Death Eater now so they'll be looking for you. I'll go talk to Hermione, and I'll be back. Program me into the wards so I can get back in." Ginny stood and, concentrating, Disaparated, leaving Draco alone again.


	5. Chapter 5

"Ginny!" Hermione yelled, rounding on her in surprise as the redhead suddenly appeared behind her. "Where have you been? You just disappear after a big battle, we thought you were dead!"

"I know, I'm sorry, Hermione, but I have to tell you something," Ginny said. She pulled her angry friend into a side room of the Burrow. "I've been talking to Draco at Malfoy Manor and he--"

"What?!"

"Hush!" Ginny clapped a hand over Hermione's mouth. "The others can't known! You're the only one who _may_ understand. Now are you going to hear us out, or are you going to yell your head off and get him arrested for nothing?"

"Nothing?" she hissed back. "Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how many people died because of that bast--"

"Sh! Just, please, listen to him. Hear him out, please?"

A pause.

"Maybe…" Hermione said suspiciously. Ginny stuck out her lower lip. "Okay, I'll listen! Just stop with the puppy-dog face!" Ginny smiled.

"Good!" In a hushed whisper, she explained Draco's situation in a brief summary, practically begging for her help and frequently using the puppy-dog face to full advantage. It took about twenty minutes to convince her to come with her, but eventually Hermione threw up her hands with a noise of frustration.

"Alright, alright! I'll go to Malfoy Manor and talk to Malfoy," she said exasperatedly.

"Don't call him Malfoy. Either Draco, or he'll even let you call him ferret, just anything except Malfoy," Ginny warned. "But I have to Aparate us because I'm programmed into the wards and you're not, and we don't want to alarm going off and scaring the wits out of him." Before Hermione could protest at the underage Aparition, they were gone, reappearing in Draco's bedroom. Draco himself was lying on the large bed, but he jumped up in alarm at the pop.

"Hey, Draco. Hermione has agreed to listen to your story. Quietly," she added with a look at her friend. Awkwardly, Draco gestured for the girls to sit down around the fireplace in big armchairs. Ginny did so graciously, Hermione stiffly. He sat across from her, fidgeting. Ginny noticed that he pulled more on his right sleeve than his left. She suspected he didn't want Hermione to know that he was a cutter, see the scars hidden there.

"How could you let those Death Eaters in, Malfoy? Do you have any idea how many students died at their hands? At _your _hands?" Hermione yelled immediately. Draco winced but shot back defensively, "Do you know how many Death Eaters I took down myself?" Hermione seemed to have no response to that. "As soon as I saw the first student die, I realized something: I could never do that."

"So you're coming to this side because you're too weak for the other?" she sneered.

"No, I'm coming to this side because I have a conscience. I may not be good, but I'm certainly not _that_ bad," he said, slumping back in his seat.

"_Not that bad?_" Hermione cried. She sprang to her feet, full of righteous anger. "Two dozen students were killed because of you! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now!" she demanded, whipping her wand, spitting sparks in her anger, out of her pocket and pointing it at his chest.

He didn't move.

"I can't. It wouldn't matter if you did." His voice was quiet, but it was more effective than any excuse. The sparks stopped and Hermione's hand faltered. He gazed up at her steadily and even Ginny could see the sadness in his eyes. It caught Hermione off guard. Ginny suspected she had expected to see cold indifference, evil, maliciousness, something like that, but it wasn't there. Confusedly, Hermione stammered, "W-what?"

"You heard me. I can't think of a single reason for you not to kill me. But if you don't help me, it won't matter one way or the other because if you don't kill me, I will," he said. He pulled up his right sleeve and Hermione gasped, her hand over her mouth in tearful horror. "I don't want to go on like this," his voice broke through. "I want to be worth something. I want to be able to contribute something, give back, or at least not hate myself the way I do." Hermione sat shakily back down, her eyes closed against his scarred arm. "Please. Just help me." After a moment of pained thought, Hermione nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

Draco quietly pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. Slipping inside, he closed the door behind him and moved to stand by the bed. On the bed, fast asleep, was none other than Ginny Weasley, a person he would never have expected to have in his house. Dreading spending the night alone, he had asked her if she could stay the night. Hermione had gone back to the Burrow to make an excuse for Ginny and was coming back the next day to figure out what to say to the Order to keep them from killing him onsite.

Draco had to admit, with her hair fanning around her pale face in a fiery halo, Ginny looked almost angelic in sleep. And she believes me, he thought, someone finally believes me. Silently, he bent down and placed a light kiss on her forehead. He crept back toward the door, not seeing the smile that spread over Ginny's sleeping face.

Hermione Aparated right beside Ginny's bed the next morning, making her fall out of it with a yelp. "I brought you a chance of clothes," she said, giggling and handing her a small pile of clothes.

"Thanks a bunch," Ginny grumbled as she clambered to her feet and took the pile. Jeans, a tank top, a shrug, and colorful flats, she thought, I love her style. A quick shower and they headed down to the kitchen. Draco was cooking--actually cooking!--bacon and eggs, whistling happily. He looked up when they entered, beaming at them. He looked happier than they had ever seen them.

"You ladies can just have a seat," he said pleasantly. "I decided to cook breakfast myself because I know you're so against house elf house enslavement, Hermione," he added as he doled out portions for all of them. Hermione looked at him oddly.

"Well, thank you," she said. "That's unexpectedly kind of you." She tried the eggs. They were delicious, but she wasn't going to tell him that; she was still a little iffy on if she trusted him enough to like him yet.

"Kindness, like cruelty, beings at home," he replied, sitting down on Ginny's left. "I won't let them go, though. I don't think they would leave even if I did. They've been in this house much, much longer than I have. I'll just go easier on them."

"This bacon is phenomenal!" Ginny gushed, her mouth full. Hermione shot her a disapproving look, much reminiscent the one she often gave Ron, and she swallowed before speaking again. "Really! You're a great cook! Better than me, by a long shot, at least." Draco grinned embarrassedly, almost blushing but not quite. "So! What can we say to convince old Dumbledore that you're reformed?" None of them had an answer to that question.

"I say we wing it," Hermione suggested. The others stared at her. "After a breakfast like that, I feel up for just about anything. And hasn't Dumbledore proved himself to be trusting and forgiving and all the other things we need right now?" she said reasonably. "We'll let him ask all the question he wants to, we tell him we have faith in you, and let him pass judgment. Best to do it today, shows him that you're doing it because you want to and not because you're being hunted by Voldemort. Agreed?"

"Sounds good to me," Ginny said, turning expectantly to Draco, awaiting his answer. He nodded reluctantly. "We'll be right beside you. Draco, you have nothing to worry about. You're not alone anymore." She put a hand on his arm and he flinched, but smiled sadly at her.

"So it's settled then," he said. "Afternoon, we go to Dumbledore. Wonderful."

_Knock knock_

"Come in." Hermione poked her head through the Headmaster's door to see him, as she so often did, seated serenely behind his desk. "Ah, Miss Granger. You wanted to speak to me about something?"

"Yes, sir. Well, it's not really me," she said, stepping aside to allow Ginny and Draco to enter behind her. "Just hear Draco out, okay?" Dumbledore's anger was thinly veiled by surprise at his being there.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Malfoy," he said stiffly. Draco flinched at his name, but didn't dare bring it up with the Headmaster. Dumbledore inclined his head and waited for them to continue. Draco looked to Hermione and Ginny for direction, but they, too, were seated and watching him patiently. He looked around again, a little lost, while noticing he was the only one standing, and gulped.

"Well, uh…I don't supposed it would help to begin with an apology?" he said almost hopefully, his voice sounding strained even to his own ears. Dumbledore didn't show any signs of approval or disapproval, so he swallowed hard again and continued. "Okay, well, um…I didn't really tell Voldemort how to get in. I told my father, with no ill intent, and he told the Dark Lord without my knowledge. I was only made a Death Eater a day before the fight which I only found out about after I was expected to participate in it, and I didn't even want to become one at all. After I saw the first person die, I knew I wouldn't be able to kill the way they do. So I just turned around and started attack my 'fellows'," he said without looking at the professor. "I'd thought about it before, and the only reason I'm not dead by now is because I'm a really good Occlumens. Please!" He finally looked up into Dumbledore's face, which seemed to look older than usual. Draco considered getting down on his knees, but that seemed a little too melodramatic for the moment. "I don't want to be a Death Eater, I never did! Just let me join you, come to the light side, reform, turn over a new leaf, whatever you want to call it, just please. Help me, I'm begging you!"

Dumbledore gave no indication of his thoughts during Draco's speech. Ginny and Hermione watched his expression carefully but he remained adamantly pokerfaced. There was silence when Draco was done, the kind that comes after an awkward conversation, tense and anxious. Draco held Dumbledore's strange piercing gaze, both pairs of blue eyes locked in a kind of battle. Draco tried to convey all of his desperation, his sorrow, his guilt, how badly he wanted, needed this help. Dumbledore returned the look, scrutinizing him, x-raying the boy who seemed to so open and vulnerable at that moment. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he looked down, then back up.

"Draco," he said. "I will choose to believe you…for now, at least." Ginny jumped up to give the relieved boy a tight hug, nearly knocking him over in her excitement. "You will be placed under my personal protection for the time being."

"what exactly does that entail, if you don't mind my asking?" Draco said, prying Ginny's arms from around his neck. Hermione's reaction wasn't as…explosive. She just beamed at him. "I'll take anything you offer me, of course, I would just like to know."

"You may stay in your Manor, as long as the wards remain in place and effective, but I would like for someone to stay with you; There is strength in numbers, after all. Since Misses Weasley and Granger are the only people likely to believe you in the near future, I see fit that it should be them, if they would agree to the arrangements," he said, looking to the girls. They both nodded. "Good. I will place extra protection on the Manor, of course, to make it Unplottable and the lot. I trust you all to act maturely and responsibly," he said, his eyes glinting as he observed them.

"Of course, sir, we'll be perfect angels the whole time," Hermione assure the Headmaster. "and I have ways, rest assured, to keep these two in line," she added, nodding at Draco and Ginny. Draco flushed slightly and his eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but Ginny caught it, and frowned at him in confusion, but he didn't notice.

"I'll be by later today, to secure the Manor and place the necessary spells to keep the lot of safe and undetected. I, myself, will deal with informing the rest of the Order of your repentance at the next meeting. They will surely take it better from me than you, and you would probably be attacked onsite. Yes, it's better for me to do it," Dumbledore said, standing up. Recognizing their dismissal, the teens thanked him and Disaparated back to Malfoy Manor. They reappeared in the kitchen all of them grinning ear to ear. Ginny hugged Draco again squealing, while Hermione hung back.

"Good job, Draco," she said, a tad awkwardly, but with a touch of warmth pulling through in her voice. "I have to admit that I had some doubts as to your credibility and sincerity and such, but I guess if Dumbledore believes you, then so do I." Draco beamed at her.

"Hug or handshake or what?" he asked, doing a good imitation of Ginny's infamous puppy-dog face. She hesitated, then rolled her eyes and hugged him, smiling anyway. "Great! If we're going to be living together, we can't have any bad feeling. I will tell both right now how sorry I am that I ever said anything bad about you, or to you, or anything like that. After you guys decided to believe me, I felt so guilty and just horrible about the past few years. I apologize fully and you can curse me into oblivion if you want to," he offered, holding his hands up to show he didn't have his wand in them.

"But wouldn't that defeat the purpose?" Ginny asked.

"Of what?"

"Of keeping you alive," she said. "You know how we fight, and you do not want to find yourself on the end of our wands, especially at the same time," she chuckled.

"But I will do this," Hermione said. She slapped him. Hard. That was for the last four years."

"Only four?" Draco asked confusedly as he massaged his stinging jaw.

"Well, that slap in third year made up for that much of it," she explained. "But with that done, all is forgiven." She patted him on the head and busied herself making them all tea.

"Well, I deserved both of them. Do you feel like slapping me, too, Gin?" he asked.

"Nah. Watching Hermione do it was satisfaction enough for me," she giggled. "Hey, Dray! Can you make us some cookies? This sort of victory calls for some really good homemade chocolate chip cookies!"

"Coming right up! Whatever you say."


	7. Chapter 7

"What?!"

"Professor!"

"How could you possible--?"

"What did he do to you?"

"Silence!" Dumbledore bellowed, and the Order of the Phoenix reluctantly quieted down and sat in their seats, though they continued to glare at him conspiratorially. "I will have you know that Draco Malfoy has my faith, and I pray that you will leave him be."

"You have a bad habit of trusting those you shouldn't, don't you, Dumbledore? Remember Snape?" someone yelled harshly. The old man winced almost imperceptibly. That betrayal was all too fresh in his mind as of late. "Yeah. He turned out wonderfully, didn't he? And Malfoy will turn out just like him, you just watch and see! There's a reason he was Snape's favorite student." Ron was standing up now, his ears a blaring red and loathing and anger etched in every line of his face. Dumbledore looked at him thoroughly.

"Allow me to inform you that both your sister and your girlfriend believe and trust him, Mr. Weasley. They volunteered to stay with him as part of my given protection," he said. Ron's face blanched. Harry, also looking a little paler then usual, put a hand on his friend's shoulder, ready to restrain him if need be. Then, Ron disappeared, taking Harry with him. Reappearing on the grounds of Malfoy Manor, Ron sprinted toward the large mansion.

"Ron! Ron, stop! Think about what you're doing!" Harry yelled after him. Being the faster of the two, he caught up to his friend. When he failed to stop him manually, he pulled out his wand. "Impedimenta!" Ron stopped immediately, balancing awkwardly on one foot. Harry came up alongside him and paused to catch his breath. "You know the girls!" he panted. "They hate us being overly protective of them, trying to stop them from doing something they want to do. If you go up there now like you are, there's a good chance you'll just piss them off. You could very well lose Hermione as a friend and a girlfriend, and Ginny will never speak to you again. Think about what you're doing," Harry said to Ron's immobile form. Ron's eyes glared at him as he struggled to move. Harry waited patiently for the jinx to wear off. When it did, Ron collapsed, panting.

"Harry!" he yelled angrily. "Don't _ever_ do that again!"

"Sorry, mate," Harry said, helping Ron to his feet. "Just keeping you from doing something stupid. I don't want you to lose either of our girls, but you have to remember that they're both smart and capable witches. I'm pretty sure they can handle Malfoy."

"I still want to talk to them," the other boy said, looking up to the house. "Calmly, and nonviolently." Together, they set off up the hill until they were at the huge front door of Malfoy Manor.

They knocked.

Scurrying feet.

The door opened to reveal a small house elf in a tasteful cotton toga.

"You Master Malfoy is not available at the present time, sirs," it squeaked. From the pitch of the voice, it sounded like a female. "He has sent Dwink to tell you that--"

"I want to see my sister and my girlfriend!" Ron said forcefully. Harry gave him a look and he quieted.

"what Ron _means_," Harry said, "is that it's not Malfoy we're here to see. We would like to speak with Hermione and Ginny, please, if they're available." Dwink seemed to consider them for a moment, and then ushered them into a huge entrance hall, sparkling white marble lit by torches and french windows. Ron gaped at it, his horrified envy written on his face.

"Sirs may stay in the library until the young misses are able to see you," Dwink said, gesturing to a gilded back door on the left side of the hall. Then she snapped and disappeared. Tentatively, the boys approached the door.

"what do you say he's waiting to ambush us the second we walk in there?" Ron whispered conspiratorially. Harry rolled his eyes and pushed the door open anyway. It was empty, rows and rows of blank shelves, not a book in sight. "what's up with that?" Ron asked confusedly.

"I dunno," Harry said, stepping inside and closing the door behind the two of them. "Why aren't there any books in here? Last time I checked, that's what a library is supposed to have in it. Let's have a look around just to be careful." Ron nodded and they split up down the middle aisle. Harry ran his fingers over the worn wood of the shelf at eye level. There wasn't a single spec of dust on it. It had been cleared only recently.

His eyes roved upward, and he caught sight of what looked like the spine of a book. Why was this book left behind? he thought. He carefully placed a foot on the bottom shelf, pushing slightly to test its strength, and hoisted himself up to reach the top shelf. He grabbed hold of the book and stepped down from the shelf, looking at it curiously. It was a modest book, dark brown leather with gold leaf words. It said "Family" on the front in a curly script. He opened it curiously. It was a scrapbook. The Malfoys blinked up at him from every page. Posed-looking family photos, special occasions, Draco and his father, wedding pictures of his parents, baby pictures. They were out of order and dusty, and it seemed not to have been touched in years. The latest picture, it seemed, was of Lucius and Draco when he was about eight years old. Harry squinted at the faded photo. Was it his imagination, or did Draco look…scared?

"There's another door back here!" Ron yelled from the other side of the library. "Come here, Harry!" He put the scrapbook back on the top shelf, and searched the rows opposite until he found Ron hunched over looking into a waist-high tunnel of sorts, dug into the wall behind a bookshelf. Cautiously, Harry leaned down to peer inside the hole as well. "What the hell do you think's back there?" Ron asked.

"I dunno," Harry said, squinting back into the darkness.

"Few people do." The pair rounded on Malfoy standing behind them His familiar smirk was absent from his face, which looked even paler than usual, if that was possible, in the dim lighting of the torches lining the walls. In its place was an almost haunted look, giving his face a ghostly sort of pallor. But he wasn't looking at them. His gaze was directed at the tunnel, and the remnants of old terrors seemed to shine behind his eyes for a second.

"Malfoy," Ron growled, his teeth clenched. Harry shot him a halfhearted warning look, though he was having trouble suppressing his own hatred. "I though the elf was going to send down Hermione and Ginny?"

"They're busy making lunch. You can join us if you want," he offered, shifting his troubled gaze away from the hole behind them. When neither of them responded, he continued. "If you go down there, you may find something to interest you. Namely, a torture chamber of my father's. Having felt the brunt of it myself many times, I daresay I know what's in it. I'd take you down myself, but too many nightmares have come alive down there."

The boys gaped awkwardly at him for a moment, watching the ghosts flicker behind his silver eyes, once again directed into the darkness of the tunnel. He shook himself slightly and turned back to them. "If you would like, I can take you up to the girls. They're in the kitchen." He gestured for them to follow him, and they did so hesitantly. Out of the library, up a staircase, down a long hallway, all in tense silence. Eventually they came to a pleasant kitchen filled with the smell of macaroni and cheese. Hermione and Ginny were standing over a pot on the stove, talking animatedly about something or the other. They looked up, though, as the three boys entered. At first, alarm flitted across their faces.

"Harry and Ron came to see you," Draco said. "And, don't worry; We aren't going to kill each other."

"I'm not making any promises," Ron grumbled.

"Ronald!" Hermione shrieked, storming over to him. "You will not harm Draco in any way!"

"Since when do you call him Draco?" he demanded, ignoring her demands entirely.

"Since he asked me to!" she replied. "Did you only come here to threaten him, or is there a reason for this little visit?" she asked scathingly. Ron's ears flushed a deep red.

"I _came_," he said pointedly, "because my _girlfriend_ is suddenly living with my _enemy_ who is responsible for several recent _deaths_! And my _sister_, too!" he added. "Do I not have a right to be concerned?"

"Not when we are both very capable young witches who have no trouble taking care of ourselves," Ginny said, taking up a defensive position beside Hermione. "I'm sure we could handle Draco if he so chose to attack us, which he knows would be a very unwise choice on his part. Don't you, Draco?" she asked the boy in question, who was now seated at the table and watching the conversation with mild concern.

"I'd never be that incredibly stupid," he said. "I know very well that I would be no match for the two of you. I know what you can, and will, do to me if I do, and I'd never put myself in that position." Ginny looked at her brother as if to say, "See?", and he looked outraged.

"You're just going to take his word for it?!" he screamed. "He's a murderer, a liar, and a traitor! And you're just going to believe him, and live with him, and ignore me entirely? How can you do that? How can you possibly be that stupid?" He was advancing on them, his face mutinous. Suddenly, Draco was there, blocking his view of the girls, who were backing away looking a bit unnerved.

"I think it's time for you to either calm down or leave," he said, not exactly threateningly, but firmly. His tone left no doubt that he would protect Hermione and Ginny if he made any move even remotely threatening them.

"Yeah, Ron, this is why I didn't want you coming here," Harry said, a hand on his friend's shoulder again. Ron looked from Harry, to Draco, to the girls, and back to Draco. Then, without a word, he turned and abruptly left the house. They stared after him.

"Um…sorry about Ron," Harry said. "You know how he gets. But you know he's just trying to protect you, and do what's best. I'm not saying I trust or believe you," he said to Draco, "but I will commit to a truce, meaning I will not attack you unprovoked. Deal?" He held out a hand for Draco to shake. Beaming, he took it.

"That's all I need."


	8. Chapter 8

"Ron

"Ron! Ron, stop this, you're being a git!" Harry pelted after the mop red hair zigzagging through the trees up ahead of him. He may have been faster, but Ron's legs were a good deal longer., and he was steadily losing sight of him. "Ronald Weasley! You're being paranoid!" The red hair stopped and Ron spun around. He glared heavily at Harry as he, too, skidded to a halt.

"Paranoid? Paranoid. Is it not reasonable for a guy to be worried when his sister and girlfriend are living with his enemy, who let Death Eaters and Voldemort into Hogwarts? Who taunted and provoked us for our entire school careers? Is there any reason to trust him at all? Any evidence that he's 'turned over a new leaf'? Any reason not to worry about the welfare of Hermione and Ginny? Any at all?" Harry backed up a step. Ron's voice was quiet, an unnerving contrast to his usual harangues, but the repressed tremor in it belied it his anger. Ron waited for his answer, but Harry stayed cautiously silent. "NO!" Ron bellowed, making Harry jump backward in surprise. He had never seen his friend this angry before.

"R-Ron, I'm going to have to stun you if you don't calm down!" he yelled. "I don't want to, but you're not being rational right now!" He pulled his wand out of his pocket. He noticed his hands were shaking. As he looked at Ron's enraged face, he knew that Dumbledore had been right: It took a great deal more courage to stand up to your friend than your enemies. Harry, fighting down his guilt at having to hex his best friend, aimed his wand. Ron looked at the wand incredulously. Then he lunged at Harry with a loud yell. Harry was too slow with a spell, took shocked that Ron would actually attack him physically, and his wand was knocked from his hand as he was tackled to the ground, rolling away into the bushes and out of reach. He scrambled toward it. Magically, Harry could take Ron down in an instant, but physically, he was no match for him. His fingers groped around under the bush until they closed around the slim piece of wood. It was once again knocked out of his hand, though, as Ron's fist connected with the side of his head, knocking him off balance. Spots of light swam before his eyes and he tasted blood in his mouth, but he tried again to get to his feet. Ron was breathing heavily, his fists clenched and his eyes burning brightly, manically. Now upright, Harry's vision swam, he felt dizzy, his head was throbbing, and it felt as though he may have hit it on something when Ron had tackled him. The blood trickling down the back of his neck seemed to support this theory, but he didn't have time to think on it as Ron came at him again, all fists and fury.

Trying in vain to fend off the storm of blows, Harry backed up until he felt bark at his back. He could feel darkness encroaching at the edges of his vision, his thoughts were fogging up, his strength was failing him. Unable to retreat any further, though, he gathered his last reserve of strength from the depths of his desperation and shoved Ron hard in the chest, sending him flying backward. Ignoring his lost wand entirely, Harry Disaparated, leaving a furious and confused Ron behind in the woods.

Ginny was furious. "How could Ron be so thick?" she demanded, serving Draco so forcefully that macaroni went flying in several directions. "I mean to say, it's not like we're babies! We are just as powerful as he is, often times more so, so why does he insist on always acting like we're completely incompetent? Is there any reason whatsoever that he should act that way?"

"You need to cut him some slack, Gin," Draco said, cleaning off his cheese-splattered shirt with his wand. "Dumbledore warned us that most people wouldn't believe my change of heart. Not that I really expected them to, of course. But Ron's reaction was a little over the top, I have to say."

"Harry's was better than anticipated, though," Hermione pointed out proudly. "He always has been more reasonable than Ron, not nearly as hotheaded. I just hope that Ron doesn't go off and do anything stupid." A small _pop_ was heard from an adjacent room, followed by the muffled _thump_ of something falling to the ground. Ginny, the only one standing up at the moment, went to see what it was.

"Harry!" she shrieked, dropping to her knees beside him. He was out cold. It seemed it had taken his last bit of strength to Aparate back. The others came skidding into the room. Hermione gasped and leaned down to him as well. Draco left the room and returned a moment later with Dwink to help them.

"What happened to him?" Hermione demanded loudly.

"I don't know," Ginny answered, wiping tears off of her cheeks. "I don't know, but it looks like someone attacked him. He's really beat up. Draco, help us get him upstairs. Dwink, get some hot towels, warm water, that sort of thing," she said, getting ready to help carry Harry. Draco gently nudged her aside and picked the smaller man up with ease--he must have been stronger than he looked--and carried him up the stairs himself. Ginny made to follow him up, but Hermione help her back by the arm.

"You don't think," she said quietly, "that it might have been…Ron, do you?" Ginny stared at her for a second, horrified. Then she seemed to deflate.

"Probably," she whispered. Her head drooped, her shoulders sagged, a new tear escaped her eye. "But we'll burn that bridge when we come to it, alright? Right now, Harry needs us." Leaving Hermione to follow her, Ginny sprinted up the stairs. She found Harry in a bed being tended to by Dwink, a compress on his head and a wrapped chest, no doubt due to broken ribs to say the least. Draco was seated in an armchair some distance away from the bed, looking surprisingly worried.

"How is he? What's the matter with him? Will he be okay?" Ginny pelted him with questions as she watched Harry's eyelids flutter with pain as Dwink tightened the bandages around his chest.

"He should be fine in a week or two at the most," he said, coming to stand at her side, looking down at him, too. "A couple of broken ribs, a missing tooth, possible concussion, and lots of bruises. We wrapped the ribs, regrew the tooth, and can't really do anything about the concussion. When he wakes up, we can give him a potion for the bruises."

"When do you think he'll wake up?" came Hermione's voice from the doorway, coming to replace Draco in the armchair by the fireplace.

"Anywhere from one to five days, according to Dwink," he replied. "She's the resident medi-elf around here. Knows practically everything I don't, and that's always useful. I trust her judgment, so she will stay with him for a while until he wakes up. We still have to talk to Dumbledore about this, and the house protection, later today." Hermione nodded and returned to the doorway.

"I can't believe Ron would do this, no matter how angry he was," she said quietly. Then she left them alone.

"Ron did this?" Draco asked Ginny. She nodded hesitantly, her eyes still on Harry's. His voice was soft with a sense of urgency to it, and she could feel his liquid eyes drilling into the side of her head, but she didn't want to look up and see them. "…because of me?" The faintness of his voice made Ginny wrench her eyes up to meet his faze. He looked deeply troubled, not to mention confused, angry with himself, and very, very guilty.

"Please, Draco, don't blame yourself for this," she said pleaded. "It's entirely Ron's fault! He's never been able to keep his anger and jealousy under control. He just lost it, but that isn't your fault, it's his. But, thanks to you, Harry will be okay. Thank you for that." She hugged him tightly and he squeezed her back, drawing as much reassurance from her as she solace from him. Hermione poked her head in to tell them something, but stopped herself when she saw them like that. She smiled knowingly to herself, but the others didn't see. She cleared her throat and they practically jumped apart, blushing slightly.

"Sorry to interrupt such a touching moment," she said, suppressing a giggle. Draco flushed darker, but Ginny just rolled her eyes. "Dumbledore's here to cast all the spells on the Manor. And he needs to see Harry." Nodding, Draco pushed past her and ran the stairs two at a time. Dumbledore was being served tea by a tiny squeak of a house elf who seemed to be awed by the very sight of him.

"Hello, professor," Draco said, smiling at the old man. "Would you like to see Harry now or after the whole protection thing?"

"Now, I believe." Dumbledore stood with a genial nod to the house elf, who squeaked and bowed hurriedly. Draco nodded and led him up to the guest bedroom containing Harry and the girls. Immediately, Dumbledore began to examine the bandages and the injuries beneath them, poking and prodding in places. Harry winced in discomfort but didn't wake up. "Good. He'll be fine in a few days."

"Great. I have no problem with him staying here for his recovery, if you and he don't have any objections to that arrangement. Dwink is a very good medi-elf, so I'm sure he will be fit as a fiddle in no time. Anyway, what kind of protection will the Manor need?" Draco asked, moving on to a more business-like subject. "Will you need anything?"

"No, no, it's quite alright. Just remember that all of you, and Harry, will be Secret Keepers. Don't reveal the location of this household to anyone you don't trust with your lives. The Manor will be Unplottable, and almost entirely undetectable. You will be perfectly safe inside it." He led the way out of the room and back down to the parlor, waving his wand subtly and muttering under his breath all the way down. "Most likely, I'll send Harry to check up on you periodically, when he's back on his feet, that is. He'll know where it is and he'll be programmed into the wards."

"Alright, sounds great," Draco said, clapping once and rubbing his hands together. "Is that all you need to do here?" he asked as they finished their circuit of the house. "I think the girls are reheating lunch. Do you want some macaroni?"

"Now, thank you, but I must take my leave of you now," said Dumbledore. "Things to do, people to see, and all of that. Goodbye and good luck. Notify me if Harry's condition changes." Draco watched the old man as he disappeared around the side of the house, then waited for him to reappear again on the other side, his wand out again and flicking the air slightly. Dumbledore waved to him again and strolled through the gardens toward the edge of Malfoy property. When he reached it, he Disaparated.

Draco looked around to see if anything looked different in any way. Everything looked the same as before, except--it was easily overlooked, hard to see if you didn't know it was there--a giant translucent bubble surrounded the house. It enclosed all the land belonging to him. From the house, it extended well over a mile in every direction, including skyward and (he assumed) underground, as well. He returned, a bit impressed, to the kitchen, where Hermione and Ginny were once again eating their macaroni and cheese. He sat down and pulled his own plate toward him.

"Dumbledore put a big clear bubble around the house," he said through a mouthful of noodles. Hermione gave him one of her 'that's-disgusting-cut-it-out' looks, and he closed his mouth and swallowed. "You should go check it out."

"It's probably the same one I use when my family goes camping on private or government property," she said nonchalantly. "Makes you invisible to anyone and anything outside of it. They can't hear or see anything on the inside. It's really very useful and almost one hundred percent effective."

"Cool. So no one can tell we're here at all?" Ginny asked, sounding intrigued. Hermione nodded. "Neat. But don't the neighbors be more than a little suspicious when a gigantic old mansion all but disappears into thin air for no apparent reason?" she asked, confused.

"Neighbors?" Draco laughed bitterly. "What neighbors? My father scared away all of our neighbors years ago! They were terrified of him, wizard and muggle alike. Can't say I blame them, actually. Wish I had gone with them. There aren't any other people within five miles of this place."

"Sounds like a lonely childhood," said Ginny. "I can't imagine having just three people around at a time. I have nine members of my immediately family alone, and lots and friends and visitors around the house all of the time. I'm what you could call a 'social butterfly.' I like people."

"I've never really had any friends at all," he continued in that same resentful tone, "and all the visitors were Death Eaters. I've always been a bit of a loner, but it does get a little bit depressing sometimes."

"Well, I can imagine so. Even I would go crazy without anyone to talk to, and I'm nowhere near social," Hermione said, giving him a pitying look. He glared in response and she looked away.

"Mostly, I just talked to the house elves. I made friends with them, learned about them, Dwink in particular," he continued, his tone losing the bitterness. "They have a long and rich history, but it's not in any textbooks; you have to really talk to them and get them to trust you before they'll tell you anything without being ordered to do so. They're very interesting little creatures."

"I know!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with kinship. "No else seems even the slightest bit inclined to learn anything about them. I think its such a shame, but even Harry and Ron wouldn't join S.P.E.W., but I haven't given up. Do you want to join?" she asked eagerly, searching around in her pockets to see if she had a badge anywhere on her.

"What's S.P.E.W.?" Draco asked.

"The Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare," Ginny said. "She's trying to get them representation on council boards, wages, sick leave, vacations, pensions, the works. Even Hagrid wouldn't join, and he's all for that sort of thing."

"So?" Hermione asked, giving up her search and turning expectantly to him, beaming.

"I don't know, Hermione," Draco said. Her face fell, and then turned angry. "Why don't you ask the elves themselves? You can ask which ones of them _want _to be paid, and then I'll pay whichever ones do, okay?" he suggested. Hermione glared at him for a moment, and then nodded. Draco snapped his fingers, and a small assembly of maybe fifteen elves appeared in the kitchen with a chorus of '_pop_'s.

"Elves, would any of you like to be hired as employees?" Draco asked diplomatically. "The job would include wages, sick leave, vacations, and pensions. Any takers?" The elves shifted uncomfortably amongst themselves, obviously uneasy with being offered money and clothes. Only one tiny elf raised his hand tremulously. "Lawny? How much would you like to be paid?"

"…a sickle a month," Lawny squeaked, his voice quavering dangerously, as if he expected his request to be met with violence or scorn. Draco smiled at him.

"Done," he replied, fishing a sickle out of his pocket and handing it to the little elf, who took it cautiously. "This is your first months pay as an employee. Congratulations. You may all return to your duties," he said pleasantly, and the elves disappeared. "Happy, Hermione?" he asked as he turned back to the table.

"Yes, I am," she said, smiling warmly at him. Maybe she could get used to staying here.


End file.
